Monday, September 1, 2014
I used to be a gym rat.
I was always a little guy growing up, and when I discovered lifting weights, my life changed.
I learned dedication.
I was in the gym everyday. I would get upset if the gym was closed on Christmas morning.
I learned that if there's something you don't like about yourself, you can change it.
I learned about pushing past the boundaries that we put on ourselves, and here's where I tie this whole post together.
I remember talking to this giant motherfucker at the gym.
This dude was like massive, but he was also a chemical engineer who probably made more money then most of us will ever see (never judge a book by it's cover)
We were talking about sets and reps, and he said "there's no set amount of reps, start lifting and once it starts to get difficult to push the weight...THAT'S when you start counting your reps."
Most people would give that method a shot, and then go back to their old ways, including myself, but I applied that theory into every other aspect of my life.
This table has been one of the longest builds I've done.
The material is unforgiving, and it's been hot and humid.
I picked up the forgotten piece for the second set of legs as well as "found" some more material so I don't have to elaborately correct my 1" too long fuck up.
I finished the second set of legs on Saturday, it was getting late in the day, and in my head I had decided I was going to use steel for the bottom stretcher.
That decision was made when I realized that I would have to use the wood that I allocated for the stretcher to correct the fact that I made the legs 1" too wide for the top. I had come up with some more material during the week, so I had plenty of stock to go back to my original plan, but my plan "B" was so much easier.
I was going to bore 1" holes and epoxy a 1" steel rod as a stretcher...easy breezy.
I sat there for a few minutes, dripping sweat, covered in saw dust, staring at the base.
I could have drilled those holes and inserted that rod and been done in 5 minutes.
It's not about being "done", it's about making the best piece that I can.
So I spent another hour mortising that unforgiving wood. It was the right thing to do. For the piece as well as for myself.
There's a ton of guys that do what I do. A lot of them are way more skilled then I am, some of them have better vision then I do, but at the end of the day, I can go home to my family, and look in the mirror and know in my heart that....there's not a motherfucker walking on gods green earth that will ever out-work me,